


Showin' You Up Like I Knew That I Would

by ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Get Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Poorly Considered Metaphors, Pre-Canon Divergence, Prior Relationships, Yuuri's slow erosion of his sanity, man i don't even know, pushing the phichimetti serge gainsbourg agenda, the four them banging each other like loose screen doors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: In Beijing, Phichit and Yuuri learn some things about each other's prior...shall we say...romantic entaglements.It's unfortunate that Chris and Victor end up as collateral damage.





	Showin' You Up Like I Knew That I Would

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lily_winterwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lily_winterwood/gifts).



> This is all Lily's fault, but I'm dying laughing anyhow. Here's her prompt: **_consider: the mildly canon divergent au where phichit tapped viktor first :3c_**
> 
> The loosening the jar thing is possibly the worst/best thing I've ever written. I'll let you decide.
> 
> The kids have lost their graces and also probably their God damn minds.
> 
> Title from Demi Lovato's "Sorry (Not Sorry)"

In retrospect, there was a moment in Beijing at the hot pot place Yuuri should have given more consideration to. Upon Phichit’s arrival, Yuuri set out to introduce his best friend to his new coach, lifelong hero, and star of all romantic daydreams in the last five months. “Phichit, this is Victor Nikiforov.”

“Nice to see you again, Phichit,” Victor said with a smile, though not his usual _we just met and I’m being nice_ one. It was more comfortable, more familiar, like they knew each fairly other well.

“Same to you, Victor!” Phichit said with a grin. “Makkachin looks great when I see your photos!”

“Oh she’s wonderful,” Victor gushes. “My baby girl.”

“I’m glad, that last video on your story before you headed to the airport yesterday was so cute,” Phichit adds.

“Ah! Thank you!” Victor beams. “I like your progress on your quads, though if I can suggest when you begin the jumps to—”

This went on for a while, and Yuuri didn’t really get why they knew so much about each other independent of him. Figure skating is a small world, though, and Phichit had a qualifier with Victor before Sochi last season. Maybe that was it.

It was forgotten almost immediately when Ciao Ciao arrived and nearly died thanks to his shellfish allergy. Then Victor was naked and Guang Hong looked like he was gonna cry, and well…that’s that.

After the dust settles with Phichit standing highest on the podium, the Cup of China Banquet commences. Copious champagne is had. Victor kissed Yuuri in front of God and all of mankind, and he feels pretty good about _them_ now, like maybe when they get back to Hasetsu they can spend a couple hours at the owl cafe before holding hands during a stroll across the Hasetsu Castle grounds.

Chris stands beside Yuuri with a dragonfruit cocktail that perfectly matches the pink parts of Guang Hong's costume. He sips it like he's had a million before and gives Yuuri a smile. “We’ll probably be reunited in Barcelona, _schatzi_.”

Yuuri hates counting his chickens before they've hatched. Still, with Victor he feels invincible some days. “Maybe.” He clinks his glass against the hot pink martini, and the two of them watch across the room as Phichit and Victor chat about something in the buffet line.

Chris’s eyes are focused on Phichit below the waist at the vent in his suit jacket. Chris is an ass man, has _always_ has been an ass man, a fact with which Yuuri is…he'll just say he has some _insider, first-hand_ knowledge of this. 

“Sensational,” Chris says with his voice dripping sex as he ogles Thailand's Future with relish.

“That was out loud,” Yuuri points out off-handedly as he loses himself in the light shining through Victor’s eyes. Victor picks up an obscenely large slice of beef wellington; he still loves the novelty of being able to just eat whatever whenever no matter what, and there’s likely no end in sight to the joy this brings him. Yuuri is okay with this --- he likes it when Victor's happy. 

More than likes it. 

“It was supposed to be,” Chris replies with a sip. “Art should always be vocally appreciated in its own time.”

Yuuri doesn’t have much to say to that. Victor and Phichit rejoin them at the table animatedly chattering about something Yuuri has no passing familiarity with. Music, he realizes. They’re discussing a famous singer that (thanks to Minako) he has some passing familiarity with. 

“I think next season, maybe ‘ _Non, je ne regrette rien_ ’ for my free skate,” Phichit declares. “Though…that may be a better fit for retirement. What do you think, Victor?”

“I think Edith Piaf is an any time choice for skating,” Victor says as he takes a moment to stroke Yuuri’s hand under the table. Then he cuts his meat and takes a bite. “Though, the sentiment of the song...you’re right, it's far more appropriate for your final competitive bow.” He looks at Yuuri. “If I came back tomorrow, perhaps I’d use ‘ _La vie, l’amour_ ’.”

“Life and love,” Chris intones with a silent toast before giving Phichit a smile and a roguish wink. Phichit smiles back with a twinkle in his eye. 

As those weird American test questions go, Chris Giacometti is to Phichit Chulanont what Victor Nikiforov is to Katsuki Yuuri. Which is why he’s never told Phichit about the private, breathy, _sweaty_ time spent with Chris in their hotel rooms. He doesn’t want to make him feel like if they work something out, Yuuri's deigned to pass him a plate of cold leftovers.

(Yuuri is grossed out by the expression ‘sloppy seconds’ because people are not that weird loose meat American sandwich thing he’ll go to his deathbed not admitting he loves eating, thanks.)

Phichit runs a finger across the rim of his tumbler. Defying all logic, Phichit drinks like a 70 year old mogul: single malt whiskey, end of discussion. He spit out a Margarita once, making Leo thoroughly unimpresed since it was straight out of the de la Iglesia version of the Savoy manual. “You like Edith Piaf, Chris?”

“I would be a dishonor to all native French speakers if I said no,” Chris replies. "It's in our bylaws."

“How do you feel about Serge Gainsbourg?” Phichit continues. There is obvious flirtation here, his voice becoming low and warm like he's stoking a fire. 

Yuuri gives Victor a smile, letting Chris and Phichit hopefully connect via tuning them out. “I'll get gold next month,” Yuuri promises.

Victor smiles like Yuuri is all he sees, all he's _ever_ seen, and Yuuri's heart flutters pitter-patter in his chest. Everything's suddenly incredible. “I don’t doubt it.”

A server comes and before anyone can speak, Phichit orders Yuuri more champagne and Victor’s preferred choice of a Kir Royale. “Chris?” Phichit asks.

“Another of these,” Chris says with a point at his drink, of which there's only about a third remaining.

“Two of those,” Phichit adds. He finishes his whiskey and then sucks down the ice cube from the tumbler. The sugary cocktail isn't typical, but as Yuuri stares at Phichit...that isn't his primary concern. 

“Thanks, Phichit,” Victor says with a smile.

Yuuri looks at his best friend. “How’d you know that?”

“Hm?” Phichit asks. The ice crunches between his teeth.

“That Victor's favorite drink is a Kir Royale,” Yuuri clarifies. "How'd you know that?"

Victor gives Phichit a lengthy stare, like he’s waiting for him to answer so he can follow his lead. Phichit shrugs and smiles. It's weird, like he's hiding something. “We were both assigned to Skate Canada last year. He saw my gala piece to ‘Defying Gravity’ and we…hung out.”

Victor coughs and is suddenly really into his beef. Weirdly into it, like he can make Makkachin immortal if he peers at the marbling enough.

Chris’s brows furrow. The expression in his eyes is, at best, dubious. “Hung out?”

Phichit seems to realize he's made some kind of error before uncharacteristically clamming up. “I mean we…had dinner. In a well-lit public place full of witnesses.”

Victor sighs. He buries his face in his hands before giving Phichit a look. “No, we didn’t unless by ‘well-lit public place with witnesses,’ Phichit means 'eating room service cheeseburgers and champagne by ourselves in my suite'.”

Chris raises an eyebrow. It's so high it may as well be in the stratosphere.

Yuuri swallows. “So you…ate junk food while watching tv together.”

“We…Netflix and Chilled,” Phichit says. His smile is incredibly sheepish. For the second time, Victor hides his face behind his hands.

“I know what that means,” Chris remarks. He sounds…unamused. He's still smiling, but it’s lacking any warmth or genuine happiness.

Narrowing his eyes, Yuuri zeroes in on Phichit. “You _made it_? With _Victor_? A _year ago_? And _never said anything_?”

“I…didn’t say anything either,” Victor points out. “Though I wasn’t aware you were the friend Phichit mentioned until...ten seconds ago, I suppose.”

Yuuri stares at Victor. “The _what_?”

“I mentioned you when we…” Phichit coughs. “I mean you know, I just…in the afterglow...said my good friend was a lifelong fan. It's weird to talk up someone else when you're...well. Anyways. I brought you up without using a name, is all.”

Yuuri throws his glasses on the table like he’s in a soap opera. “ _Every time I banged Chris_ I spared _your_ dignity by leaving you out of it! What the _hell_ , Phichit?”

Victor’s eyes are huge as he stares at Yuuri like some kind of scared barn animal. Chris covers his mouth with his right hand, his cheeks turning bright pink like his beverage of choice. Phichit’s perfectly-threaded eyebrows rise into his neatly-parted hairline. The sharp wings of his eyeliner stab through Yuuri like broken glass. “Perhaps I should seek a hearing specialist when I return to Thailand, but I could have sworn I just heard you say ‘every time I banged Chris’, _Yuuri_?”

The server brings their drinks. Yuuri chugs his, Victor’s, and Chris’s in turn. The alcohol fails him — this situation is still happening against his fondest wishes. He's also not nearly wasted enough to deal with any of this. “I mean…okay. _Look —_ ”

Chris clears his throat before giving Phichit a smile that is nothing but sincere and reproachful. “We never listened to Gainsbourg, if it makes you feel better _ma pêche_. I've been saving him for someone special, provided my chances have not been ah…thoroughly shattered.”

Phichit assesses his offer as though he’s Anubis at the gates of the afterlife. He must deem Chris’s heart lighter than the feather, because he simply sips his cocktail without speaking for a moment. “We’ll see.” He then turns his ire onto Yuuri. “ _You_ however — “

“You have zero room to talk! You have _negative_ room to talk!” Yuuri argues. “Sleeping with Victor a year ago, before _I ever got to meet him_ — “

“Not my fault you never acted like an adult and introduced yourself!” Phichit replies with a shrug. “Also you know…it’s like I loosened the mayo jar for you. You should _thank me_.”

“Wow, that is definitely a metaphor,” Victor says with an awkward laugh. He looks like he may throw himself off the The Gate of Divine Might. 

Yuuri puts his glasses back on after cleaning off the _beurre blanc_ sauce that splattered on the lenses when they landed on Victor's plate. “Well! Since we’re all loosening jars apparently, consider the times I banged Chris that for _you_. We’re even.” He grabs Victor by the back collar of his bespoke, expensive-as-shit blazer, and without any further preamble yanks him out of the banquet hall. They storm towards an elevator bank. “Thanks for _loosening the jar_!” Yuuri shouts without looking back.

Sometime later, because the field where Yuuri harvests his fucks has grown completely barren (mostly due to him salting the earth after), he lies in a tangle of soiled (as in “no a $20 won’t work for the housekeeping tip; my parents own an inn, trust me”) sheets with a really satisfied and dazed thanks to sex-witchery Victor as his little spoon.

Eventually, Yuuri grabs his phone to double-check their flight time for the next day. 

“Yuuurrriiiii,” Victor croons. “That was —”

“If you’re about to tell me anything about Phichit and his _prowess_ , I will shut you up again the way I did when we first got back here,” Yuuri warns.

“…That’s not a threat, Yuuri,” Victor points out. “It’s an _incentive_.”

Yuuri looks at the photo Phichit texted him of Chris sleeping on his stomach with bruises and fresh, red welts down his back. Phichit has framed his own face like he did the Instgram post of Victor and Yuuri from a few days ago, only instead of fake-shock his finger covers his lips like he’s shushing the camera.

There’s only one short sentence with it: _Thanks for loosening the jar._

Yuuri smiles. _You too_ , he replies.

**Author's Note:**

> THERE IS NOW A PODFIC OF THIS WHAT OH MY GOD PLEASE LISTEN IT'S AMAZING AND IS LINKED TO THE FIC HERE

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Showin' You Up Like I Knew That I Would by ken_ichijouji (dommific)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958607) by [BookewyrmeWritesFic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookewyrmeWritesFic/pseuds/BookewyrmeWritesFic)




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